


Curse Your Perfect Hind-End!

by irishfino



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, dat ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 10:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishfino/pseuds/irishfino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abbie stops by dressed in her outfit for Yoga to count bullet holes in need of repair. Ichabod curses her wonderful bum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curse Your Perfect Hind-End!

There was a reason women were not allowed to wear trousers and the reason was Miss Mills’ abnormally perfect hindquarters. She had stopped by for some reason or another, he couldn’t remember now, not with the image of her delectable bum imprinted in his mind. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to have his eidetic memory taken away. Or at least this image. Then again.

No. He was a married man. A man married to a witch. A very married man married to a witch they could surely rescue from Purgatory and – did she have to bend over that way? At least she was wearing undergarments. He stifled a groan. He could pick out the details of the lace beneath those damnably tight trousers. He did not want to admit to himself how he knew it was lace, but he knew. Damn his roaming eyes!

“Miss Mills,” he said. He tried so very hard to remove the strain from his voice. He wasn’t as successful as he would have liked. “Those… trousers, to what is their purpose?”

He was quite pleased when Miss Mills straightened up, but mother of God her rear was still quite detailed. Tight, firm buttocks, flexing as she moved about the cabin. Fabric stretching over a fit frame leaving little to his vivid imagination. Oh, what he wouldn’t do if given the – no. No, no, no. He was a married man. A very married man who needed to rescu – Washington’s Bible, her shirt was just as tight!

“Miss Mills… your attire.” No, his voice did not creak as if he were a pubescent boy again. It did not. No, Miss Mills was not grinning at his voice break. No. None of this was happening.

“It’s for Yoga. A relaxation exercise with mats and deep breathing,” she replied. She crossed her arms and – no, he was dreaming. He had to be. There was no reason for her to heave her bosom at him. “Anyway, I’ll bring by the stuff to fix this later tonight.”

He nodded. He had no idea what stuff she referenced nor what a “Yoga” was, but he didn’t much care at the moment. No, what he needed at the moment was a nice, ice cold dip in the lake. And a way to repent for the unholy sin that was the perfection of Miss Mills’ bum.

**Author's Note:**

> I see things on Tumblr and my mind takes them places.


End file.
